


untethered

by hellogoodbye121715



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: I had an idea and ran with it, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Soooo many ocs, people are gay eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellogoodbye121715/pseuds/hellogoodbye121715
Summary: Carus had notoriously terrible luck — there’s a reason his only fishing buddy was a child. No one else was willing to risk a poor catch by going out with him. The local children had taken to calling him “No-Catch Carus.” Carus had a good sense of humor about it, but still it was a bit embarrassing. "Of course, my first promising trip in weeks and I find a dead person! An actual body," Carus thought. "This is not going to help my reputation. What will the call me next, “Corpse-Catcher Carus”?…."Suddenly, the figure shifted. Carus screamed. Rami, the boy-fisher, screamed. The no-so-dead body screamed.Or a girl wakes up in a fictional world 1,000 years before the story starts and joins the Rhoynar just before Nymeria flees with her refugees. Almost everyone is an OC.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. Carus I

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the start quickly and I like the idea, so I decided to post it. The world of ASOIAF is just so big and interesting and I find the story of Nymeria and the Rhoynar so interesting. I’ve read a few SIs lately and I think it would be interesting to look at someone ending up somewhere totally random, unrelated to the main narrative. How long would it take them to figure out where they were? That’s how this started. I make no promises.

The turtle shot through the water. Frustrated, Carus attempted in vain to track the barely visible shadow racing through the murky depths.

“Did you see how big he was?” Rami squealed. “We have to catch him!”

Carus glanced at the excited young boy beside him, sighing. Rami was right — a turtle like that would surely impress everyone. The pair had been fishing all morning and hadn’t caught much of anything. They couldn’t return to Ghoyan Drohe empty-handed. Even if it was all they brought back, a turtle of that size would be a respected catch. The wetlands along the slow-moving Little Rhoyne were alive with water snakes, herons and ducks, frogs and fish, but to the people who lived along its banks, the turtle was the most sacred animal.

But the creature had darted away quickly, and Carus doubted they’d be able to find him again. Though he knew it was a long shot, Carus began paddling, propelling their small fishing boat gently forward through the waves.

“I see it!” Rami yelped, surprising Carus.

The boy leaned forward, pointing frantically to where Carus could see a large reptilian head poking out of the waters 20 yards yonder. Carus steered the craft closer.

The turtle lurched under the surface again, again just a blurry shadow in the river slough. Frustrated, Carus groaned.

Then, something submerged alongside the boat caught his eye. A fish! Moving quickly, Carus grabbed his spear and thrusted downward into the depths striking true.

“What is that?” Rami said softly.

“Dinner,” Carus boasted proudly. “It’s huge… a fish this big probably weighs as much as you do...”

“It’s a girl,” Rami said.

“A what? This is clearly a blue catfish,” a confused Carus muttered, not looking up. “It’s not even in the boat yet. Here, help me lift it….”

Rami didn’t answer.

Carus’s catch was large and he wasn’t wrong about its weight — the fish was comparable to 10-year-old Rami in weight. Carus lugged the fish up into the boat. Looking up, Carus found that Rami wasn’t paying attention to him at all. Instead, the boy was leaning over the opposite edge of the boat squinting into the distance.

Following Rami’s gaze, Carus turned to see what had caught his attention, jumping when he finally saw it.

“Shit! Is that a body?!” Carus yelped.

A crumpled form was pressed into the tall grass of the nearby shore. Carus propelled the boat towards it, gliding in close to the blonde head and limp arm hanging in the mud. Unsure, Carus prodded it with a paddle. It didn’t move.

As Carus prepared to flip the body frontwards, he mused on the predicament. Carus had notoriously terrible luck — there’s a reason his fishing buddy was a child. No one else was willing to risk a poor catch by going out with him. Carus usually returned with a meager hall of fish more suitable for feeding the cats than people. The local children had taken to calling him “No-Catch Carus.” Carus had a good sense of humor about it, but still it was a bit embarrassing.

 _Of course, my first good trip in weeks and I find a dead person! An actual body,_ Carus thought. _This is not going to help my reputation. What will the call me next, “Corpse-Catcher Carus”…._

While Carus was lost in thought, Rami leaned in closer to the figure.

“Don’t do that Rami,” Carus said, pulled from his thoughts. “Just look away while I take a closer loo—”

Suddenly, the figure shifted. Carus screamed. Rami screamed. The no-so-dead body screamed.

The figure scrambled frantically backwards in the mud. She was small and thin, with soaking wet clothes, dripping light-colored hair and panicked blue eyes.

“What the hell are you doing in the mud looking like a corpse?” Carus screeched.

The girl, who had began looking in all directions wildly and jabbering in some incomprehensible tongue, shed no light on the situation.

“Carus, she’s bleeding!” Rami cut in, pointing out the red blood that looked to have dripped down from a slash at her hairline.

Taking a deep breath, Carus considered what to do. The girl didn’t look Rhoynish. Compared to Carus and Rami’s tan skin and dark hair, the stranger was as colorless as a ghost. There was no sign of any other fishing boats in the area, but they were near the shore, so she might have come from the land. However she’d gotten there, she was clearly alone now.

“Are you alright?” Carus asked in a softer tone, gesturing at her forehead.

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t think she understands Rhoynish,” Rami said needlessly.

Carus continued undeterred.

“That wound needs attention… do you need help?” Carus continued gently.

Carus was wearing a light cloth scarf around his neck. Slowly, he untied it and held it out towards the girl.

She glanced at it for a minute, unsure. Touching her hands to her face, she noticed the blood and paled. The girl took the cloth and wiped at the wound.

Rami jumped out of the boat, crouching beside her.

“We have to take her back to the city,” Rami said. “We will won’t we? We can’t leave her alone!”

“We won’t,” Carus promised. “But I’m not sure how we’ll fit both her and the fish...”


	2. Miri I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I hear you’re fighting off a breakdown, I myself am on the brink.... — Jason Isbell, Hope the High Road

There was a massive fish in Miri’s lap. It weighed as much as a small child.

All in all, Miri was a bit miffed. How was it that she was the one stuck holding the fish? Miri had a few concerns — primarily related to the buzzing mosquitos that she could not slap due to the fish in her arms and food safety. The air was incredibly hot and humid and the fish was in her lap instead of in a cooler. She didn’t actually know much about fishing, but Miri was fairly certain this wasn’t the most sanitary way to transport a fish.

Of course, Miri had other, more pressing, concerns as well. She was currently on a boat with a strange man and a child, headed to God-knows where. Her hair was muddy and her face bloody. Neither the strange man nor boy appeared to speak any English at all. She did not recognize the lilting tongue they did speak.

These were not small problems to have — this was probably the strangest situation Miri had ever been in. More serious than any of that, however, was the big question that throbbed in her mind and filled her with fear. How had she gotten here?

Last she remembered, Miri had been nowhere near a river. She was at the farmer’s market examining a watermelon that had her feeling particularly excited when she had been struck by a wave of sudden drowsiness. Miri remembered crouching down in the shade with her eyes closed and then…. Nothing. There were no clues in her memory as to how she had ended up in the mud, looking up at a man in a small boat with piercing brown eyes and curly dark hair.

Miri had only realized she was bleeding when the man passed her his scarf. The laceration on her forehead was deep. A boy had jumped out of the boat and leaned in very close, violating in the way children sometimes to, any sense of personal space. After a stream of incomprehensible muttering, the man had begun gesturing wildly in an awkward round of charades, blustering and blushing.

Miri was a bit embarrassed by how long it had taken her to understand his meaning, allowing the boy to guide her into the boat and sitting still warily as the man had pulled bandages from a small satchel at his side and began cleaning her wound. He’d eventually given her several neat stitches.

Miri had not been comfortable with that at all — a muddy riverbank was not a sterile medical environment and the supplies he used looked like they’d be more useful patching a ripped seam. She’d almost jumped right back into the water. She’d decided to just go with it when she realized the fishers were potentially her only ride back to civilization. Though a bit odd, neither the man or the boy looked too shifty.

That decision had led Miri to her current situation — sitting silently with an armful of wet fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I know nothing about fishing and my river knowledge is pretty limited as well. I imagine the Rhoyne as being comparable to the Mississippi. This river, the Little Rhoyne, is more like the Missouri in my mind.


	3. Miri II: Ghoyan Drohe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miri learns where she is. It sheds absolutely no additional light on the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to A Wiki of Ice and Fire: "Ghoyan Drohe is a ruined city in the Velvet Hills of Essos, north of the Flatlands and east of Pentos. It lies on the banks of the Little Rhoyne, west of its confluence with the Rhoyne... According to Tyrion Lannister, until the wars the city was 'a fair place, green and flowering, a city of canals and fountains.'" I lived in Belgium for a while and there I saw a lot of canals. As that's the only first hand experience I have with river cities, I drew some inspiration from those city layouts.

Both the man and the boy were stealing quick, unsubtle glances at their passenger. Miri barely noticed, too enthralled by her surroundings.

Before her eyes, a town had sprung up out of the riverbanks. Gone were the rocky bluffs peeking out behind hanging willows and in their place were docks lined with every type of river craft imaginable. Alongside jon boats like the one she was in, Miri saw canoes and even crude houseboats.

The river had become a canal, lined with stone instead of mud. Smaller canals split off in every direction and high bridges crossed overhead. Everywhere — carved into the stone and onto the sides of boats — were images of turtles.

It was all very alarming. Miri couldn’t think of a single city in North America that had a bustling system of _canals._ And that didn’t even take into account that none of the boats had modern engines or motors. Miri didn’t see a single car, bike or streetlight either.

The man steered the boat down one of the side canals, effortlessly twisting them through narrow waterways until finally they came to a stop. As he tied the boat to the canal wall, an older man came striding out towards them, jabbering excitedly. He looked to be in his fifties with graying hair, long bony limbs and a manic look in his eye. He was making a beeline for Miri with no sign of stopping.

Flustered, Miri unsteadily struggled to stand, still hugging the fish. She braced herself for some sort of greeting. But when the man reached the edge of the walkway alongside the boat, he did not pause before her. Instead, he reached forward and deftly grabbed the fish from her hands, before turning on his heel and retreating the way he came, still jabbering.

Miri blinked, unsure of what to do with her hands now that they’d been emptied.

 _Had he been talking to the fish the whole time?_ Miri mused.

The boy beside her giggled and the man in the boat rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Neither seemed particularly concerned that their catch had just been stolen. The pair hopped out of the boat, quickly unloading their fishing gear. Before Miri could question what to do with herself, the young man reached forward, not unlike the older man had with the fish, and plucked her from the boat.

The unexpected manhandling shocked Miri and she stumbled slightly upon hitting the stone walkway. Quick in an attempt to steady her, the man lurched forward, losing his own balance in the process.

Miri gasped as he teetered close the slick edge. Before he could fall in, a woman Miri hadn’t noticed approach grabbed his arm hauling him safely from the murky canal.

 _I let that man sew my face_ , an alarmed Miri mused.

The woman was tall, with slick black hair and a face marked with laugh lines. Miri thought she had a cool mom vibe. The woman exchanged a few quick words with the man, which quickly grew heated in tone. The woman gestured at Miri and swatted at the man. _Definitely a mom,_ Miri decided.

Turning to Miri, the woman smiled and said something with a questioning tone. She was clearly waiting for Miri to answer.

“I… I don’t understand,” Miri said. “Do you speak any English?”

Miri felt a bit dumb asking that — she clearly wasn’t in the U.S. anymore and it seemed a bit arrogant to assume someone would speak her language — but she wasn’t sure what else there was to say.

The woman looked baffled and everyone just stared at Miri for an uncomfortable second. Finally the boy broke the silence, babbling in a way that must of answered the woman’s question because a look of understanding crossed her face.

Gently, the woman stepped forward and guided Miri away from the canal and up a thin set of stone stairs — the same direction the strange man who took the fish had gone. The man and boy from the boat followed.

The staircase opened up onto a street lined with houses. Miri was directed into one of the homes into what looked to be a dining room, in the center of which was a long wooden table lined with benches. The woman gently pushed Miri onto one of the benches. The boy had run ahead, and when Miri was seated, he appeared from across the room and pressed a mug into her hands. The man and boy plopped down on either side of her and the woman sat across from them.

The steaming liquid was sweet and comforting. As Miri took small sips, several more people trickled in — a middle aged man and a fierce looking woman and two women who looked to be about college-age. All were tan with black hair and brown eyes. The older man who’d taken the fish was still nowhere to be seen.

Everyone present stared at Miri. She gulped.

“I know English is a no-go but what about Spanish?” Miri tried. “Ustedes hablan español? Parlez-vous francais?”

The crowd exchanged glances and began tittering. The older woman spoke and everyone quieted down. She nodded at the middle aged woman. The middle aged woman looked at Miri and said something — it didn’t sound much like the foreign words the others had spoken. This tongue had more of a nasal quality to it. When Miri didn’t respond, the middle aged man tried, saying something in a deep, guttural language.

Miri just shrugged. She didn’t understand. The man beside her — the one who had found her in the mud and brought her here — suddenly stood up, crossing the room and passing through a door that led deeper into the dwelling. He returned quickly with a large rolled up paper in his hands.

Sitting back down beside her, the man unrolled the paper.

It was a map, but unlike any Miri recognized. Central on the page was what appeared to be a river system, lined with dots labeled in handwritten script. He handled the map with care, like it was a prized possession. That made sense to Miri — it looked like it belonged in a museum. Little mountain ranges and cities were illustrated and in the southeast corner there were even illustrations of dragons. What left her confused was that he was showing it to her in the first place.

 _Why are these people showing me a map that looks like it belongs in Lord of the Rings? What is this, Narnia? Who still uses hand-drawn maps?_ Miri wondered. _Is this some sort of joke?_

Miri voiced none of these thoughts, instead shaking her head. Everyone shifted uneasily at this. Once again, it was the older woman who stilled the room. She appeared to dismiss most of the crowd, all of whom followed her direction.

Soon, Miri was left with just the man and the boy. Even the woman in charge had walked off. The man coughed awkwardly and the boy patted Miri’s shoulder in a display of sympathy. The sight of the serious-looking child, faced screwed up with consideration, made Miri smile. She guessed he was about 10. He was missing several teeth and had ears that stuck out.

“Thank you for the drink,” Miri whispered softly, picking up the mug as she spoke.

The boy’s face brightened and he said something quick and light. The man leaned forward to ruffle the boy’s hair. The man, Miri guessed, was in his early twenties. He had freckles and wild curls and an energy Miri could only describe as awkward. _He has kind eyes,_ Miri thought.

Catching Miri’s eye, he patted his chest and said a slow word.

“Carus,” he repeated. “Carus.”

The excited boy copied the motion, practically jumping up and down as he chanted, “Ramiramirami!”

“Rami,” the man — Carus — translated, rolling his eyes.

Miri smiled, feeling as though she was sharing in the moment of affection and light teasing.

“Carus…. Rami,” she said. “I’m Miri.”

Carus gestured at the map and tapped one of the small dots along the river system.

"Ghoyan Drohe," he said.

 _"_ Ghoyan Drohe?" Miri repeated. "Where the fuck is that?"


	4. Soraya I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the OCs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love in the thoughts and love in the words — The Avett Brothers, No Hard Feelings

Of all the things Carus could have come home with, Soraya never would have predicted the girl she found in the boat when he returned from his fishing trip.

Soraya was about to say just that when her husband Papak joined the crowd huddled at the hearth. Only Carus and Rami had stayed with the visitor — Soraya had thought it best to give her some space and had led the curious brood away for a moment.

“Of all the things for Carus to bring home,” Soraya began, “I can’t belie—”

“Such a beautiful fish!” Papak interjected. “It might have taken him a while to get the hang of it, but I should have guessed he’d take after me eventually. A true man of the river! I’ve already started gutting it and let me tell you it is a beaut!”

“What are you talking about, you old coot?” Mani said, scooting over to allow Papak a space in the circle. “She could not have been more clearly talking about the girl!”

Papak bristled.

“Women are everywhere — there’s got to be 50,000 in this city alone,” Papak reasoned. “But a fish of that size brought home by Carus! Now that is a miracle. What’s so interesting about some hill person?”

Mani harrumphed and Soraya could tell that once he started talking, the two men would talk in circles for ages.

Pari came to the rescue, jumping into the conversation before her stepfather could open his mouth.

“It was a nice catch,” the pretty young woman said quickly. “But I don’t think she’s from the Velvet Hills, or Pentos for that matter. You weren’t there a minute ago, Papak.”

“She didn’t react to Rhoynish, Pentoshi or even Norvoshi,” Ellaria said, nodding in agreement with her daughter.

Papak looked thoughtful.

“Andal then — they have some strange ideas about their womenfolk,” he said finally. “She probably just got sick of it and decided she’d rather make a go of it in the swamp.”

“I bet you 20 pieces she’s—“ Laila started, grinning wickedly at her sister.

“Enough!” Soraya interrupted, scolding the young women. “We are not going to start wagering on this.”

“But… what are we going to do with her?” Mani asked.

Soraya was the head of the household and her word held weight. Everyone turned to her.

“We’ll prepare Carus’s fish,” Soraya said. “She carried it back, so she should stay for the meal. We’ll hear what Carus thinks also, he’s spent the most time with her.”

No one objected and the group fell into an uncharacteristic silence.

Papak and Mani soon drifted away to tend to the fish. Ellaria headed to the market, snagging Rami to come with her. Pari and Laila disappeared to tackle chores.

Soraya made her way back to the front room. When she stepped back into the room, Soraya saw Carus and the stranger, staring intently at one another.

“Her name is Miri,” Carus said, breaking his gaze.

At her name, Miri jumped, smiling awkwardly. She raised her arm and jerked her hand in a quick wave.

Soraya glanced over at Miri. The girl had begun anxiously biting at her thumbnail.

“Rami’s convinced she’s a river spirit — we were chasing a turtle when we found her,” Carus said.

Soraya hadn’t taken the time to really look at her earlier, too surprised by her unexpected arrival. Though certainly strange, Soraya doubted the skinny nail-bitter was anything but human. Miri was tall, but slouched in a way that made her look smaller. Her deep set gray-blue eyes were filled with worry. _Papak might be right about her being an Andal_ , Soraya thought, noting sandy blonde hair. She had a long freckled nose that seemed just the slightest bit crooked. _She has the air of someone who isn’t used to being looked at,_ Soraya decided.

“What do you think about her?” Soraya probed.

“I don’t think… when we… she gaped as though she’d never seen a city before…” Carus said.

The more Carus cared about something, the less coherent his words became — he tended to stop and start, either rambling in circles or dropping sentences. But in the years since her nephew had come to live with her and Papak, Soraya had learned how to read the feeling behind his words. Carus was worried about Miri.

“We’ll try to find out more about her when we eat later,” Soraya said. “Someone should probably alert the port-master. If anyone comes looking for her, that’s where they’ll start. We can let him know she's here.”

Carus grinned goofily, assured that his new friend wasn’t going disappear.

“She can’t be comfortable in those muddy clothes,” she sighed. “Pari can probably lend her something… Why don’t you go join your uncle? I’m sure he’ll want to hear everything there is to tell about that fish.”

Carus now looked decidedly less content. As much as he loved his uncle, Carus was much less interested in fish and not looking forward to the solid round of questioning awaiting him from Papak.

Turning to Miri, Carus mimicked her earlier jerky wave and went on his way.

“Send Pari in here!” Soraya called after him.


	5. Miri III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the OCs part two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just introduced a lot of characters, so here's a list in order of appearance so far:  
> Carus Obaros, 21, nephew of Soraya and Papak  
> Rami Ellaros, 10, son of Mani and Ellaria  
> Miri Becker, 19, Earthling in Essos  
> Soraya Allyros, 58, wife of Papak, adopted mother of Mani, aunt of Carus  
> Papak Darros, 61, husband of Soraya, adopted father of Mani, uncle of Carus  
> Mani Jariyos, 40, adopted son of Soraya and Papak, partner to Ellaria  
> Ellaria Zarros, 42, mother of Rami, Pari and Leila, partner to Mani  
> Pari Ellaros, 19, daughter of Ellaria, stepdaughter of Mani  
> Leila Ellaros, 17, daughter of Ellaria, stepdaughter of Mani

The women of the household were considerably more intimidating than the men, Miri decided.

Rami was a sweet child and Carus had already proved himself to be kind. She’d only noticed two other men. The strange older fellow who had the vibe of a bumbling professor. The middle-aged man hadn’t made much of an impression at all, but Miri thought it was a positive sign that he seemed to follow the lead of the women in the family.

But the women... The matriarch, who’d introduced herself as Soraya, commanded respect. And then there was the middle-aged woman and the two younger women — all of whom were incredibly pretty.

Soraya had led her further into the home and left her with the two young women. Pari, Miri learned, was the one with long straight hair and an easy smile. Laila looked slightly younger and watched Miri more skeptically.

After the introductions, the two had begun filling a pack with clothes and towels. Miri watched curiously.

Ready to go, Laila grabbed Miri’s arm and directed her out of the house and out into the street, Pari tittering beside her.

Though she didn’t understand a word, Miri found Pari’s voice soothing. Out on the street, Miri followed as the pair led her through the town, past houses and fountains. They passed many others, most of whom gawked curiously at Miri as they exchanged greetings with the girls.

Eventually, they reached a large building with a column-lined entrance. Miri stepped inside the entrance. Everyone inside was female and no one was wearing clothes. Miri blushed.

Laila and Pari stripped and stepped through a doorway. _I guess they expect me to follow,_ Miri thought. Miri was not exactly comfortable with public nudity, but being the only one clothed seemed almost worse. Miri shrugged off her clothes, which were so unlike anything else she’d seen people wearing so far in this new place she’d found herself in.

Most everyone else wore loose layers, skirts and sandals and tunics. Miri, on the other hand, was dressed like she’d just rolled out of bed on Earth and then took a tumble in a mud pit. She peeled off her bulky sweatshirt and stepped out of her shoes — old hiking boots that she’d thrown on forever ago to go to the farmers’ market. She debated whether it would be okay to keep the underwear and sports bra, but in the end decided against it. _When in Rome…._

Stepping through the doorway Laila and Pari had taken, Miri found a pool of clear, clean water.

“Oh thank God, it’s a bathhouse!” Miri said to herself under her breath.

She’d assumed it was something along those lines, but confirmation that this wasn’t some sort of nudist public gathering was reassuring.

Miri stepped into the water, joining Laila and Pari who had noticed her entrance and were staring at her side. Miri blushed, remembering the tattoo she’d gotten after turning 18. They were looking at the bluebonnets inked on her ribs.

Pari gave her an assessing look, but Laila looked impressed.

“They’re bluebonnets,” Miri said, quickly sinking down so that the tattoo was under the water.

Miri noticed that all around the pool, women were lounging close together and even washing each other’s hair. Pari leaned closer, reaching for Miri. Carefully, Pari unwound the bandage that was still wrapped around Miri’s head, wincing at the wound. Following what seemed to be the custom, Pari helped Miri wash the mud and blood out of her hair, mindful to do so without disturbing the stitches on her forehead.

As they lounged in the water, Laila caught Miri’s attention. Miri was delighted when she realized what Laila wanted.

“Wa-ter,” Laila said, splashing. “Ba-th-hou-se.”

Miri grinned and repeated each new word. As Laila named various limbs and features, Pari helped guide Miri through the pronunciation. Miri doubted she’d remember so many new words at once, but the game was fun. Laila even pointed out the tattoo, giving her two new words — one Miri assumed meant tattoo, and another that she guessed was for flower.

As they stepped out of the pool, Pari handed Miri fresh clothes — a tunic with a pair of leggings. Both were slightly too big, but Miri was struck by the kindness. She’d assumed she’d just have to put back on her muddy clothes.

“Laila Ellaros, Ghoyan Drohe, 17,” Laila said, counting out her age with her fingers.

“Ooh!” Pari giggled, following suit. “Pari Ellaros, Ghoyan Drohe, 19.”

Miri smiled — they were younger than she’d thought, but she and Pari were the same age. She guessed Ellaros must be their family name.

“Miri Becker, San Antonio, 19,” Miri said.

That surprised them.

“Miri Beck-er… Saan-en-tohn-ey-oh?” Pari questioned.

“Nineteen?” Laila muttered.

Miri nodded.

“Miri Becker, 19,” she said. “San Antonio is like Ghoyan Drohe… I’m American, from Texas.”

The girls didn’t seem to recognize the place names at all. _While ignorance of San Antonio or even Texas was understandable, surely 'American' would be recognized almost anywhere?_ That concerned Miri. She shook off the prickle of panic growing in her mind, desperately looking for something to distract herself.

“Pari and Laila Ellaros,” Miri said. “Ellaros Carus? Ellaros Soraya?”

She realized she’d miscalculated when they looked at her strangely. Laila burst out laughing.

“Pari and Laila and Rami Ellaros,” Pari said kindly. “Soraya Allyros, Obara Allyros. Carus Obaros.”

Miri was confused. _Maybe Ellaros wasn’t a last name,_ she thought. _Or maybe I’ve mixed up the relationships? Pari, Laila and Rami could be siblings. But then who is Obara Allyros? Is that the other woman from the house’s name?_

Miri put aside the mystery for later. When they returned back to the house, it was approaching late afternoon.

As soon as they got back, Laila and Pari were swept up into meal preparations. Miri also officially met the remaining members of the household — the old man was Papak Durros and the man was Mani Jariyos. The woman, as it turned out, was not Obara. Her name was Ellaria. Based on the resemblance, Miri assumed Mani had to be Rami’s father.

A realization struck Miri — Ellaria sounded a hell of a lot like Ellaros and the other last names had followed a similar pattern. _They must base their last name on their mother’s name,_ Miri thought. _So Laila, Pari and Rami are siblings. And Carus must be related to Soraya through his mother, who is different — Carus Obaros, Obara Allyros, Soraya Allyros._

Miri was set to work cutting vegetables.

Rami, who had also returned from wherever he had gone with the other women, sat beside her and handed her vegetables. He’d latched onto the word game and provided Miri with a steady stream of new vocabulary, though he lost her when he moved from physical objects to more complex topics relayed through increasingly complicated displays of charades.

When the meal was finally ready, Miri was prompted to try every dish. As the night wore on, the family devolved into fast-paced conversation and Miri settled comfortably into the background, watching as they teased and bickered and laughed.


End file.
